


Things You’ll Never Hear Me Say

by asexualjuliet



Series: But the Wound’s Still Open [2]
Category: Everwood
Genre: Character Study, Episode: s02e01 The Last of Summer, Episode: s02e02 Extra Ordinary, Episode: s02e03 My Brother’s Keeper, Episode: s02e05 Daddy’s Little Girl, Episode: s02e06 Blind Faith, Episode: s02e07 Three Miners From Everwood, Episode: s02e08 Burden of Truth, Episode: s02e09 Just Like In the Movies, Episode: s02e10 Unhappy Holidays, Episode: s02e11 Family Dynamics, Episode: s02e12 Controlling Interest, Episode: s02e13 Forget Me Not, Episode: s02e15 The L Word, Episode: s02e16 Unspoken Truths, Episode: s02e17 Unfinished Business, Episode: s02e18 Last Looks, Episode: s02e19 Sick, Episode: s02e20 Do or Die, Episode: s02e21 Your Future Awaits, Episode: s02e22 The Day is Done, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Let Bright Abbott be sad his best friend just died!, Panic Attacks, mentioned suicidal thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:33:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 21
Words: 7,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24407353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asexualjuliet/pseuds/asexualjuliet
Summary: Hey, Colin.I know you can’t hear me, but I miss you, man. I miss you so fucking much.Season two as told by Bright to Colin. Each episode is one chapter.
Relationships: Bright Abbott & Colin Hart
Series: But the Wound’s Still Open [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1867159
Comments: 6
Kudos: 3





	1. 2.01: The Last of Summer

**Author's Note:**

> I love Bright Abbott and he deserves the entire world, so I’ve been working on this while watching season two. As of the time of this author’s note, I almost finished with the season and only have three episodes left to watch, meaning I only have three chapters left to write.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Hey, Colin. 

I know you can’t hear me, but I miss you, man. I miss you so fucking much. 

Amy’s not doing great. She’s kinda been locking herself in her room all summer. 

She found the letter you wrote before…

Before. 

She’s pissed as hell about it, yelled at Doctor Brown and caused a scene in Mrs. Baxworth’s new Hollywood-themed restaurant. 

(The food tastes like shit. I know you were wondering).

I know why you did it, dude, but I just—

God, I sound so stupid, but I just want to see you. 

I want to see your face and your stupid smile, because when you smile it feels like everything’s okay even when it’s not. 

(When I fail a math test, when I get in a fight, when I start to cry for no fucking reason, I half-expect you to be there with that smile. I half-expect you to make everything okay).

It kind of fucks me up that I’m never gonna see you again. That I can’t stop imagining you with no hair and a cracked open skull. It kind of fucks me up that you’re never gonna have hair again, even if you are six feet under. 

But I can’t say that to anyone, y’know? Because you were the only real friend I ever had, and I know Laynie and Amy are both hurting too much to talk. 

That’s the thing, too. Everyone’s worried about Amy, and I can see why, y’know?

But no one’s worried about me. 

Grandma Edna always said I was soft, y’know, and Dad told me it was a good thing, meant I just had more feelings than most. 

But I cried so hard the other day that I puked, so I think I’m in a position to say that having more feelings than most feels like shit. 

(God, if you were there you’d just make some stupid comment about my nervous stomach, make me laugh about that time I puked grape juice all over Laynie right before her first communion).

(But you weren’t there. So it just fucking sucked).

Everything fucking sucks, man. Even working at the pool sucks without you. 

There’s a bunch of little girls who like to pretend to “accidentally” swim into the deep end so that I can save them. I know if you were here, they’d probably do it so  _ you _ would save them. But you’re not, so I don’t even know why I thought it. 

Amy’s planning a memorial for you at school, which is just gonna be a bunch of bullshit where girls who didn’t even know you go up and cry and say some sappy shit about you that’s probably not even true.

And it’s gonna be bullshit because you fucking hated school assemblies, we all did, and you wouldn’t want the entire school to be forced to come down to the gym and stare at a photo of you for an hour and a half.

And I know you told me to forget it, but I still can’t help thinking this is all my fault. I know Amy thinks so, and she’s right, I was the one driving. I crashed the car and put you in a coma and now you’re dead and it’s all my fault.

_ God, _ I miss you, man. If you could see me right now, you’d probably laugh, ‘cause I just look so pathetic, alone on a summer night, talking to myself.

I know you can’t hear me, but I gotta talk to someone, man. 

And Laynie’s got her own shit to deal with, and Amy’s wallowing in pity—

(I know that sounds mean, I know that she's hurting, but it’s true, man, she’s sucking the life out of everything).

(Not that anything had much life to begin with).

And like I said, Mom and Dad are worried about Amy,

And, I mean, they should be, because her boyfriend's dead,

But no one is thinking about me.

I sound like a selfish little kid, but I’m hurting, too.

I miss you like hell, dude. I lost my best friend, but I don’t think anyone noticed. 

It’s all  _ we need to talk about Amy, I’m worried about her. _

Which I get, I really do, but _ I _ miss you, too.

I love you like a brother, and I don’t think I ever told you that. 

But just know that I do. 


	2. 2.02: Extra Ordinary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guess who got kicked off of the football team!  
> (It’s me. As if life wasn’t shitty enough).

Guess who got kicked off of the football team!

(It’s me. As if life wasn’t shitty enough).

I totally flunked math, and now I can’t play, and my dad is pissed because I’m not smart enough to get into college without football. 

(His words, not mine).

Coach wanted me to say I flunked because of you, and I know if you were here you’d probably tell me to do it because  _ it’s senior year, man, _ and  _ football’s the only thing that makes County worth it, _ but I couldn’t. 

I couldn’t use you, man, not when the fact that you’re gone is still tearing me up inside. 

And anyway, football’s different without you. I’m not as good without you.

Amy’s doing terrible, she won’t stop laying in bed and watching cartoons.

(She doesn’t even watch the good ones either. She hates Spongebob).

Dad’s freaked out that she doesn’t care about college or anything, but he doesn’t seem to give a shit about me getting into college.

I never really thought of myself as dumb until now. 

I got held back in the third grade, but if I hadn’t gotten held back, I wouldn’t have met you, right?

I always thought it was for the better,

Because you were my best friend. 

But if I can’t get into college when I’m going on nineteen

And if you’re not even here

Then is it?


	3. 1.03: My Brother’s Keeper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy’s losing her mind, I swear to God.

Amy’s losing her mind, I swear to God.

She and Laynie went to an ECC frat party, and Ephram and I had to go get her. 

(Oh yeah, Ephram and I are maybe-kind-of-friends now. My bad on that one, you were right, he’s pretty cool).

But I was pissed, because she’s my little sister, and she’s not supposed to go get drunk with college boys—I bet you’d feel the same way about Laynie—and I told her she shouldn't be drinking, and she—

She told me it was my fault, that at least she wasn’t drinking and driving, that it’s my fault that you’re dead. 

And because I’m a fucking asshole, I said it was her fault, too, for pretending you were fine, for hiding that you were sick. 

She’s fucking pissed, at me and Ephram, ‘cause I kind of used him to spy on her, and he’s the one who told me about the party. So we’re both on Amy’s shit list (and, to a lesser extent, Laynie’s). 

No offense, man, but I’m trying to move on. I still miss you like hell, and it hurts every time I hear your name, but I know I need to move on, and I’m trying my best. 

I have a new friend, I’m working hard in my classes, and I’m  _ trying.  _

Amy isn’t trying for shit. 

And I know we’re going through the same thing, and that I should feel bad for her, and I do. 

I just want her to try. 

I’ve been working my ass off, and I know Laynie’s trying to get better, too, but Amy’s never had to try before. 

She’s been good at every goddamn thing she’s ever tried, and she’s just sailed through life without a fucking care. 

I know I’m stupid, but I’ve tried harder than she ever will. At football, at math class, at moving on. 

It just pisses me off. 


	4. 2.05: Daddy’s Little Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My dad is losing his fucking mind.  
> I shouldn’t tell you this, but I don’t think it counts, because you’re not real...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting schedule was supposed to be whenever broadway_hufflepuff finished a new episode, but she hasn’t watched in a hot sec so i’ll be updating every day  
> if you follow me and don’t give a shit about everwood, i’m so sorry lmao
> 
> TW for mentioned depression & alcoholism

My dad is losing his fucking mind. 

I shouldn’t tell you this, but I don’t think it counts, because you’re not real. 

(Well, I mean, you’re real, but you’re not here. You  _ were _ real. I don’t know if you count as real anymore, though).

Amy’s therapist said she should go on antidepressants and Dad flipped his shit. Lost his fucking mind, honest to God. 

She’s getting worse, I think. She’s not just sad anymore, she’s really fucking depressed. 

She stormed out of dinner yesterday. She’s been doing that a lot lately. There’s nowhere in this house that you can go without hearing Amy screaming at Dad or Dad screaming at Amy.

And normally I’d go to your place, but currently, it seems like more of a hellhole than mine, if I’m being honest. 

Your mom’s a mess and your dad’s drinking again. I overheard my dad telling my mom. 

Laynie’s doing better, I think. I haven’t talked to her much, but she’s on antidepressants (which I shouldn’t know, but Amy screamed it at my dad so loud I’m surprised you didn’t hear it up in heaven).

Anyway, life in Everwood is at an all-time low. I know I said I was moving on, but God, I wish you were here. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> All mistakes are my own, please let me know if you see any!
> 
> Kudos/Comments are greatly appreciated!


	5. 2.06: Blind Faith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My parents just bought Amy a fucking car. Holy shit, man. If I ever needed any more proof that she’s the favorite child, this is it.

My parents just bought Amy a fucking car. Holy shit, man. If I ever needed any more proof that she’s the favorite child, this is it. 

A  _ car,  _ man! A fucking car!

Amy sits in her room all day and feels sorry for herself and gets a car the day after she passes her driving test. I mean, she’s barely sixteen, man. 

And I work my ass off studying, do my fucking best to move on from the fact that you’re  _ dead, _ I even got an A on my last math test, and nothing!

I’ve said it before, I know I have. And I know it sounds selfish, but you’re not even real, so I can say whatever I want. 

You’ve been my best friend since we were kids, since you were nine and I was ten. It’s been eight years of you being one of the most important people in my life. 

Amy dated you for a year and a half, and everyone assumes she’s got the most hurt, the most trauma, the most straight-up pain. 

The thing is, if you had died two years ago, Amy would barely have given a shit. But I’d be right where I am right now, because I love you, man, and you can’t call me queer for that, because I know you loved me too. You were my best friend, and you were always gonna be my best friend, but you weren’t always gonna be Amy’s boyfriend. 

It just hurts, that’s all. 


	6. 2.07: Three Miners From Everwood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, dude, if I could have dinner with anyone in the whole world, dead or alive, it’d be you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was chugging my “loving Bill and Ted” juice when I wrote this chapter lmao

We’ve got a new guidance counselor, Mr. Beals. He’s supposed to be helping me write my essay and get into college, but apparently, my first draft fucking sucked. It turns out Neo from the Matrix is not an acceptable answer to  _ if you could have dinner with any one person, dead or alive, who would it be? _

(Honestly, Beals is lucky I didn’t choose Ted “Theodore” Logan, which is obviously Keanu’s superior role, and just an overall cool dude. I just thought smart people liked The Matrix).

But seriously, dude, if I could have dinner with anyone in the whole world, dead or alive, it’d be you. 

I’d give anything to get just an hour with you over pancakes at the Mile High Diner. Hell, I’d give anything to get fifteen minutes with you over Mrs. Baxworth’s shitty Hollywood food. 

I miss you, man, and I know I’ve said it a thousand times before, but I do. 

I want to eat dinner with you. I want to laugh with you over Mile High pancakes. I want to make fun of Mrs. Baxworth’s shitty restaurant with you. I want to go to Mama Joy’s and just talk like we used to, I want to order takeout from Gino Chang’s and eat pizza and chow mein with you while we sit on the couch and watch Bill and Ted. 

I wanna be with you, man, and it fucking kills me that I can’t, but I’m gonna write one kick-ass essay about it. 

So be excellent to each other,

And party on, dude.


	7. 2.08: Burden of Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy’s finally gone off the rails. Turns out she really wanted those antidepressants.

Amy’s finally gone off the rails. Turns out she  _ really _ wanted those antidepressants. 

She stole a prescription pad from Aunt Linda’s office when she wasn’t looking and wrote herself a prescription for the meds. 

Dad is fucking  _ furious. _

Life down here is kind of a mess. No matter how hard I try to move on, Amy yells over everything about how shitty her life is, how much better everyone else has it, because her boyfriend is dead and no one understands. 

I do, though. I understand. I think about you every day. Hell, I still talk to you like you’re here. 

It’s been months, and I’m trying. Laynie is trying. We’re both trying to let go. Sure, we still think about you, and it still hurts like hell every time, but we’re not acting like we’re the only ones struggling. 

I think it’s a good idea for Amy to go on the drugs. I think it could really help. But she broke the fucking  _ law _ when she stole that notepad, and she thinks she can get away with it just because you’re dead. 

(Then again, she’s gotten away with a ton of shit now that you’re gone. Got drunk at the ECC party, failed her last five tests, and still got a goddamn car. God, what kind of bullshit world are we living in?)

Whatever, man. I gotta go study. Maybe  _ I’ll _ get a car if I pass this test. 

(That was a joke. I’m getting an A- in Math and Mom and Dad don’t give a shit).


	8. 2.09: Just Like In the Movies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> God, you’ll never believe this. Ephram Brown, king of the dorks, is dating his little sister’s twenty-year-old babysitter.

God, you’ll never believe this. Ephram Brown, king of the dorks, is dating his little sister’s twenty-year-old babysitter. At least someone in this town is happy. 

The girl’s hot, though. I really don’t know how he did it. I was playing wingman for a while, but Madison thought I was weird, and he only kissed her after I left. 

It was at the little sister’s slumber party, too. Did you ever meet Delia? She’s pretty cool, I think you’d like her. 

That slumber party was actually the coolest I’ve felt since you died. Getting kicked off the football team and hanging out with Ephram Brown hasn’t done wonders for my reputation, even if he is making out with some hot twenty-year-old. 

But Delia and her friends treat me like I’m famous or something. I dunno, it’s kind of fun to hang out with them. 

I don’t know if they’d think I was cool if I was still a jock, still on the football team. I think I treat them better now that I’m a nobody. I know popular asshole Bright would never sing karaoke with a bunch of fourth-grade girls, but I had fun doing it, y’know?

I think this is what moving on feels like. 


	9. 2.10: Unhappy Holidays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s no way in hell Amy’s over you, but she’s started dating Tommy Callahan.

There’s no way in hell Amy’s over you, but she’s started dating Tommy Callahan. 

I know, right? Tommy fucking Callahan. She invited him over for Thanksgiving dinner with both sets of grandparents, which went over as well as you might expect. 

Dad started grilling him about a third of the way through dinner, and he just got up and left. 

(In hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have told Dad that Tommy was a meth-head, or at least not until after Thanksgiving dinner. My bad).

Anyway, after he left, Amy went  _ off.  _ Started yelling at Dad about how she fucking hated her life, how she wished she was dead. It was… pretty fucking scary, man. I’m worried about her. 

And you know how my Dad gets when Grandma and Grandpa are around, so I don’t think you’ll be surprised to know that after Amy’s giant fucking blow-up, Grandma went off at Dad. Blamed him for his shitty parenting. Said Amy wouldn’t be so unhappy and I wouldn’t be so dumb if Dad had raised us right, and I know I’m not that smart, but she could have at least waited until I was asleep or out of the house or something to call me stupid. 

I don’t want to complain or anything. I’m sure Thanksgiving at your place is about fifteen times worse right now. I should call Laynie and check in. 

Anyway, happy holidays, man. Hope you’re eating cranberry sauce up in heaven. I know it’s your favorite. 


	10. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy is fucking missing. She’s gone and we don’t know where the fuck she went.

Amy is fucking missing. She’s gone and we don’t know where the fuck she went. 

I’m freaking out, man. All that shit she said earlier about wishing she was dead. What if she…

God, I can’t even say it. I can’t lose someone else. I can’t be the one to plan her shitty school memorial assembly. I can’t read the name  _ Amy Nicole Abbott  _ on a gravestone. I’ve done enough moving on to serve me for several lifetimes, and even then, it’s obviously not enough, because I’m still talking to you like you’re still here when you’re not, because you’re dead and you’re gone, and your body is decaying in a fucking casket six feet under the ground. 

I can’t lose her. I can’t fucking lose Amy. She’s a pain in the ass, but she’s my little sister, and I can’t come home every day like Laynie, to a silent home and a broken, grieving family. I can’t go through all this mourning shit again, because it’s been months and thinking about you still hurts like hell, and if I have to feel like this every time I pass Amy’s room or see an old photo of her, I might just fucking off myself. 

Shit, that sounds bad, I just—

She’s my little sister. And I’m supposed to protect her. 

If Amy’s dead, I haven’t protected her for shit. It’ll be my fault. I already killed you, I can’t kill Amy, too. 

Mom and Dad are calling the police. Holy fucking shit. I said I was going to the bathroom but I just locked myself in my room, and now I think I’m kind of freaking the fuck out. 

It’s kind of hard to breathe. It kind of feels like I’m dying or something. Is that normal?

My chest feels all tight, too, and I feel kind of sick. My heart is beating really fucking loud. 

I can’t fucking breathe. Either I’m dying or losing my fucking mind or both. 

Shit, Colin, I wish you were here. My sister is missing and probably dead and I can’t fucking handle that. 

I kind of feel like I’m gonna puke. I really hope I don’t, but knowing my track record, I don’t know if I’ll get that lucky. 

I wish you were here. My sister is missing and I can’t stop crying and I can’t fucking breathe. 

If you were here you’d just tell me to calm down, tell me Amy’s fine, tell me  _ if you puke on me I’ll fucking slap you,  _ and that might not sound reassuring to you, but it would be to me because it would mean you were  _ here,  _ not up in heaven, not rotting away under the ground.  _ Here.  _

Fuck, Dad’s calling me. I gotta go. See you next time I go off the fucking deep end. 


	11. 2.11: Family Dynamics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy’s okay, thank God. She ran away to Grandma Edna and Irv’s house because of what Dad said about Tommy Callahan.

Amy’s okay, thank God. She ran away to Grandma Edna and Irv’s house because of what Dad said about Tommy Callahan. 

I’m relieved as hell that she’s okay, but she says she’s not coming back. That she’s staying with Grandma and Irv for the foreseeable future. 

I know I spent fifteen minutes earlier talking about how much I loved her and how scared I was for her, but right now she’s just acting like a brat. Mom and Dad won’t let her date a meth-head? I guess the only logical explanation is to run away without fucking telling anyone, not even her brother who wouldn’t tell Mom and Dad where she went as long as he knew she was safe. 

She doesn’t look at me at school, and that kind of hurts. She took Laynie, too, because apparently people can either be friends with me or her. I took Ephram. 

Our house is quiet all the time now. I kind of miss the yelling, because the yelling meant that we were still a family, that we were still talking to each other and living under one roof. 

I don’t know what I did to make her mad. As far as I can see, it’s Mom and Dad she should be mad at, not me. But she ignores me at school every time I pass her in the hallways. I’ve stopped trying to talk to her. 

It hurts, a little. I know she’s my little sister and we’re supposed to fight, but I don’t think we’re supposed to fight like this. We’re supposed to fight over stupid shit, like me putting my feet on her side of the couch or her playing her music too loud when I’m trying to do my homework. We’re supposed to fight and make up and talk to each other and live under the same roof. 

But things change, I guess. 

And there’s really nothing we can do to change  _ that.  _


	12. 2.12: Controlling Interest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guess who just got suspended!
> 
> (Again, it’s me. Ya boy. A certified dumbass).

Guess who just got suspended!

(Again, it’s me. Ya boy. A certified dumbass).

I’d say it wasn’t for dumbass reasons, but that would be a lie. 

I beat up Tommy Callahan at the County pep rally. 

Actually, I  _ attempted _ to beat up Tommy Callahan and the County pep rally. 

I haven’t actually gotten in a fight in a while. It comes with the whole  _ not using my emotional pain as an excuse to be a complete asshole  _ thing I’ve been trying out. I don’t think I’ve fought anyone since you woke up, and even then I got a black eye. 

(Apparently, Ephram Brown can fight. Who knew, right?)

But Tommy Callahan gave me another black eye and several bruised ribs, so I don’t think I’ll fight anyone else for as long as I can help it. 

I know I shouldn’t have done it, but you should’ve seen him. He thinks he’s so cool, and he’s not. He’s not good enough for Amy. He’s nowhere near as cool as you. 

I know I was kind of a dick about it when you started dating Amy, and I think I had a right, because dating your best friend’s sister is a definite violation of the bro code, but God, do I wish you were still together. 

The fact that you’re dead kind of throws a wrench in that, but I still wish it were true. Dead or alive, I’d still rather have you date Amy than have Tommy Callahan date her. 

I trust you, and I trust you with Amy. I know you loved her, and you made her feel safe. 

I really don’t trust Tommy Callahan on the same level that I trust you. I guess all that’s left to do is hope rehab did him some good. 


	13. 2.13: Forget Me Not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ephram Brown is possibly the biggest dork on the planet. I don’t know how he’s sleeping with a college girl.

Ephram Brown is possibly the biggest dork on the planet. I don’t know how he’s sleeping with a college girl. 

He wrote her a song on the piano, which would be cute, except that he’s already overselling the lost puppy thing. It’s not an act, either, he looks at her like she hung the moon and I wouldn’t be surprised if he genuinely thought she did. 

It didn’t work on Madison, but that shit would work wonders on a high school girl. I know he wrote a song last year for Amy, and if she hadn’t been holding out for you to wake up, she probably would’ve fallen hard. 

Speaking of Amy, guess who forgot to come to my dad’s birthday dinner because she was busy hanging out with Tommy fucking Callahan?

(Damn, I guess you’re good at guessing games).

I’m pissed at her, but I still let her take most of the credit for my present. I don’t even know why. 

It was an old stethoscope like my grandpa used to have and Amy and I used like to play with

You played with it, too, one time when Laynie and Amy had a ballet recital, and Dad had to stop by the practice on the way there. We were maybe in fifth grade, you were ten and I was eleven. We felt each other’s heartbeats with it before moving on to the plants on the windowsill that we had named after the ninja turtles. You swore Donatello had a heartbeat. I told you that was bull and you just laughed. 

You probably don’t remember. I don’t even know why I do. It’s just one of those memories I held on to, I guess. 

I don’t know where the stethoscope Grandpa used to have at the office went, but I found the new one at the antique shop downtown. I wrapped it and signed Amy’s name to the card and everything. I guess it would’ve been way more convincing if she was actually there, but I tried. 

I wish things were like they used to be. When Amy remembered Dad’s birthday, when she still lived here with us, when you and I were just two kids playing with an old stethoscope and a couple of ninja-turtle-themed plants. 

(Michaelangelo’s still my favorite. Do you still like Rafael?)


	14. 2.15: The L Word

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This just in: Ephram Brown is a fucking dumbass. The dumbest thing you can do is tell a girl you love her, especially when that girl is way, way out of your league.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To quote my brother when we watched this episode: “The L word? I think you mean yeet. The L is silent.”
> 
> Also “The dumbest thing you can do is tell a girl you love her” is paraphrased/ ~~stolen~~ from Freaks and Geeks’ Daniel Desario — “The dumbest thing you can do is let a girl know how much you like her.”

This just in: Ephram Brown is a fucking dumbass. The dumbest thing you can do is tell a girl you love her, especially when that girl is way, way out of your league. 

If I were Madison, I would have just said it back, even if I didn’t mean it, because Ephram left to go to a jazz festival the next day and leaving him alone with his puppy-dog thoughts has never been a good idea. 

Good thing he had me with him, huh?

(Yes and no. I’m a fucking enabler of bad ideas, but I also covered for his ass, and I think the two even out).

This dumbass headed all the way back to Everwood to talk to her (which was a shitty idea in the first place) and he didn’t even make it past her front door. I pretended he was asleep for at least thirteen hours just to cover for him in front of his dad, so he owes me big-time. 

He blew that jazz festival, too. Panicked or something and just couldn't play right. It was weird, he’s usually so good, but I guess telling Madison he loved her threw him off. It was… pretty hard to watch, man. He stormed offstage the second time he screwed up. 

The ride back was awkward as fuck, but I did get a blue raspberry slushie, which you know is my favorite flavor. 

We stopped at a mall on the way back. I got another slushie. Ephram played the piano, and it sounded fucking awesome. Seriously, there was a whole crowd of people watching. 

He’s really good. It’s kind of amazing to watch him play. It’s like the music’s inside of him, if that makes sense. I don’t know. It’s just cool.


	15. 2.16: Unspoken Truths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apparently, studying pays off, because I just got three A’s on my term two report card!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TMU is not a real college but it’s a football college in Friday Night Lights so that’s why it’s here.

Apparently, studying pays off, because I just got three A’s on my term two report card!

I’m actually really fucking happy. I know it seems like a dumb thing to care about, but you should’ve seen my dad’s smile when I showed him. It’s kind of nice being the favorite child. 

And I  _ am _ the favorite child (as of right now). Amy got two F’s on her report card and she still won’t even look at my dad, so it looks like the tables have really turned. 

The only time she’s talked to me in the last week was to ask me to hide her report card, which sucks for her, because it came the night before and Dad was already pissed. 

Whatever. Honestly, not even Amy’s shitty attitude can make this less exciting for me. I might even get into Notre Dame without football! 

I think I’m really gonna go to college, go somewhere that’s not ECC, and I don’t wanna sound like a dork, but I’m really happy about it. 

We were always supposed to do the college thing together, apply to the same schools and spend senior year living it up during football season. We were supposed to graduate together, first me (Abbott, Harold Brighton), and then you (Hart, Colin Michael). We were supposed to have a hell of a senior summer, take a road trip to LA, get one last look at Everwood before we both left for college, preferably the same one, but if not, at least we’d see each other at Thanksgiving and watch the big game, Christmas and watch old holiday specials like we always did, summer and work at the pool again, year after year after year. 

I know all of that is gone, but I’m going to go to college like we dreamed about. I’m gonna play football for Notre Dame or A&M or maybe even TMU. I’m gonna do all the things you never got to do, and I’m gonna do them for us. For  _ you.  _


	16. 2.17: Unfinished Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy Callahan overdosed on GHB, and now Amy’s back home.

Tommy Callahan overdosed on GHB, and now Amy’s back home. 

I don’t know whether to be happy or sad. I’m pissed at Amy for leaving, and I’m happy that she’s moving back, but the two don’t cancel out. 

She hasn’t been a great sister to me, but I still love her, and a big part of me is just relieved that she’s back. 

Another part of me just wants her to apologize. For being a shitty sister, for ignoring me in the hallway, for leaving me alone in a house where we ate dinner in silence save for the occasional  _ can you please pass the potatoes.  _

Her so-called friends are being total bitches to her, though, spreading rumors that she’s the one who OD’d, acting like they’re better than her because they would never date Tommy Callahan. Page Brunati straight-out told Amy she couldn’t sit with them at the new 50’s-themed diner downtown. It was some Mean Girls type shit. 

(Side note: the diner’s fucking awesome. It’s the kind of place we’d go with the team after football games, or on a double date with Amy and my girl of the week, or just the two of us for a burger and fries. They’ve got the best root beer floats. I know you’d love it there).

But Page and her friends treated Amy so badly that she almost quit ballet, and she was a second away from tossing her pointe shoes in the dumpster before I convinced her not to. 

But I did convince her, and I think that counts for something, maybe even means we’re a family again. 

Things are looking up. 


	17. 2.18: Last Looks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I said things were looking up? Turns out that was bullshit.

Remember when I said things were looking up? Turns out that was bullshit. 

All four of the schools I applied to rejected me. My life is falling apart, I’m gonna end up working at 7/11 for the rest of my life, and Ephram won’t shut the fuck up about Madison dumping him. 

(He got drunk at her band’s gig, fought her lead guitarist, and got fucking arrested, all before the clock struck twelve. That and the fact that she can legally drink and he can’t get into an R-rated movie didn’t add up to a very promising outcome).

I’m just fucking  _ sad,  _ man. I really thought I was going to college, and I was ready to do it without you. I haven’t even told my parents A&M rejected me yet, and they’re already treating me like glass, making mac and cheese for dinner just the way I like it, letting me watch TV for as long as I want, treating me like I’ll fall apart if anyone addresses the elephant in the room: that I’m gonna be stuck in Everwood forever, because even though I worked my ass off this year, I’m still not smart enough to do anything with my life. 

If you were still here, I think this might hurt even more than it already does. Because I know you’d get in anywhere you applied, because you’re  _ smart,  _ man, and you’d probably be able to write some kick-ass essay about surviving a coma that the admissions officers would all treat like solid gold. 

I wrote about you for my essay. About how much I miss you and how I’m trying so hard to move on but it’s so fucking  _ hard, _ about how I just want things to be like they used to be, when we were just two kids who cared more about ninja turtles and Spongebob than college and comas and car crashes. 

I wish we were ten years old, in the month and a half in between your birthday and mine where we could always pretend we were the same age instead of me being older or you being younger. 

I wish we were ten years old and playing with Grandpa’s old stethoscope in the office with all the houseplants, or whispering to each other during our sisters’ dance recital, making paper airplanes out of the programs instead of watching the show.

I wish we were eleven years old and watching cartoons on the couch, too young to be thinking about girls or high school or football or college or anything, really, other than whatever was on the TV and each other. 

I wish we were twelve years old and just starting middle school, on top of the world because we felt so old, so mature, so much cooler than Laynie and Amy. 

I wish we were thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen—

I wish we were seventeen and you woke up on July fifth, I wish that the crash and the coma and the surgery were all just one big dream, I wish we were eighteen, that we were  _ both _ eighteen and we were best friends and you were  _ here,  _ not six feet under, that the name  _ Colin Michael Hart  _ was never carved on a stone and placed on a plot in Ramsey Cemetery. 

I wish a lot of things, and none of them are ever going to come true, but I thought writing them down would be enough to get into college, to get out of the town where you lived and died, where every little thing reminds me of you, where every place I go is somewhere you’ve been before. 

It just wasn’t enough, I guess. 


	18. 2.19: Sick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aunt Linda has HIV. She got it in Africa from a dying kid, and the thought of her holding that kid until he died kind of makes me want to cry or puke or both.

Aunt Linda has HIV. She got it in Africa from a dying kid, and the thought of her holding that kid until he died kind of makes me want to cry or puke or both. 

Someone told the whole town about it, about her, and someone’s suing dad for malpractice and emotional distress, which is bullshit. Aunt Linda’s a good doctor, and she shouldn’t have to tell every patient she treats about her private medical history. 

Ephram is scared, I overheard him telling Amy. His dad is sleeping with Aunt Linda, and his mom’s already dead, so I don’t blame him for worrying. If something happened to his dad, I don’t know what would happen to him and Delia, but I can be sure it wouldn’t be anything good. 

Speaking of Ephram, he and Amy have something going on. It’s obvious they like each other, but he’s still getting over Madison, and Amy’s in a weird place right now. 

(Amy’s been in a weird place for a while, if you hadn’t noticed).

She says there’s been a “shift” in the situation between her and Ephram. I told her she sounded crazy and that if she tried to get with another one of my friends I’d make her watch Spongebob with me every week for a year. 

(I have a sneaking suspicion that the Spongebob threat doesn’t mean shit to her, especially not when Ephram Brown is part of the equation).


	19. 2.20: Do or Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last night was prom, and it was fucking awesome. You’re looking at County High’s 2004 prom king!

Last night was prom, and it was fucking awesome. You’re looking at County High’s 2004 prom king! I’m also incidentally the prom king with the most prom dates ever (four), so I’m going to go ahead and consider the night a win. 

Well, it was a win for everyone except Ephram and Amy. Amy asked him out “as friends,” which was bullshit, and also a terrible way to ask out a guy who you really like. 

Because of Amy’s shitty technique, I had to ask out three more girls than I was originally planning to, in order to leave only two seats in the Prom-a-bago for Ephram and Amy and force them to go together. 

(Side note: the Prom-a-bago was  _ awesome.  _ We were living the dream, man. Amy and Ephram thought it was stupid, but Nikki, Susie, Cheryl, and Mindy seemed to enjoy it, and I know if you were here, you’d be on my side).

Prom was fucking awesome for me, but it was decidedly less so for Amy and Ephram. Everyone knows they’re made for each other, but he’s still hung up on Madison and he turned her down. 

There’s always something (or someone) coming between them, even though it’s obvious to anyone who’s been around them for more than five seconds that they’re into each other. 

But that’s for them to figure out. 

I, for one, had the time of my life at prom, and without you around, I really don’t think I’ll ever have that much fun again. Just young, stupid fun. 

I know we always planned to go to prom together. You were gonna ask Amy and I was gonna ask... whoever. You’d get prom king and Nikki or Susie or Cheryl or Mindy would get prom queen, things would be awesome, and we’d drive around all night in the Prom-a-bago. 

I hope you don’t mind that I had fun without you. If it helps, it’d be twice as awesome with you there. 

I don’t know why I’m telling you this. I know you don’t mind.


	20. 2.21: Your Future Awaits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’ve grown up, sure,
> 
> But you never got to. 
> 
> You’re gonna be young forever, always seventeen in my eyes, because I never got to see you as anything more than that. 
> 
> You were ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, but you’ll never get past seventeen.

Hey, dude. 

So, I graduated! Which is kinda crazy and a really big deal for me. 

I know we were supposed to do it together, but it was still really cool. I graduated, man! Harold Brighton Abbott was the first kid onstage today, like we always knew I’d be, and we always joked about how it was fitting, because I'd be the only kid graduating and then turning nineteen the next week, how putting in thirteen years instead of twelve qualified me for the top spot. 

You’d have been at the beginning of the middle, and we didn’t make jokes about that because  _ beginning of the middle _ doesn’t mean anything like  _ first _ does. 

Because if I was the one who died, someone would take my spot as first, people would notice that there was a  _ new _ first, but because it was you, you just disappeared, enveloped by Halls and Hawks and Hannigans and everyone else at the beginning of the middle. 

I almost didn’t go, almost just let them mail me the diploma, but Dad would never have let that slide, and I think I’d regret it if I didn’t. 

If I hadn’t gone, everything we’d planned for would be gone, right? You being the beginning of the middle was already gone, but if someone replaced me as  _ first, _ it would be like…

I don’t know. I did it for you, though. You and me, but mostly you. 

And I know we’re not gonna have the best senior summer ever, because you’re gone and I’m probably not leaving Everwood for a while. We’re not gonna take a road trip to LA, we’re not gonna go off to college together, we’re not gonna come back to Everwood to see each other every summer. 

Because I’ve grown up, sure,

But you never got to. 

You’re gonna be young forever, always seventeen in my eyes, because I never got to see you as anything more than that. 

You were ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, but you’ll never get past seventeen. 

And I know it’s been a year, but that still kind of fucks me up. That I’m gonna grow up and grow old and all you’ll ever be is seventeen. Too young to go to college, go to prom, too young to be the beginning of the middle at graduation. 

Right now, we’d both be eighteen, in that sweet month-and-a-half of late spring where we could always pretend we were the same age. 

But we’re not.  _ You’re  _ not. 

You’re seventeen. And I’m eighteen. And next week I’ll be nineteen, and the years will keep coming, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, and I’ll leave you behind. 

I don’t want to leave you behind. 

But I think I have to. 


	21. 2.22: The Day is Done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think I’m moving on. And it feels good, but if I’m really gonna move on, I’m gonna have to stop talking to you like you’re still here. I’m gonna have to say goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’ve made it this far, thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoy the final chapter.

Things around here are just as good as they always are. Dad tried to start a business selling bagels because he couldn’t practice medicine — the Linda Abbott HIV scandal of 2004 still haunts the Abbott Family Doctor’s Office — but now he’s going to work with Doctor Brown, if you can believe it. Ephram got into the Juilliard summer program, and he’s spending the summer in New York City. He and Amy are an item now,  _ finally,  _ and she’s visiting him in New York right now. 

School’s out, and I’m free, and I know this summer isn’t going to be everything we planned. That there’ll be no road trips, no parties, no midnight movies over Gino Chang’s takeout. 

And that I’ll be scared half to death the whole time about what the future holds for me (‘cause I don’t have a clue).

But I think I’m gonna make the most of it, y’know? Do things I’ve never done before and have fun doing them. I saw Shrek Two at the theater with Delia Brown the other day, and it was kind of awesome. It was something I could see us doing together when we were her age, y’know? Just going to the theater, eating popcorn with way too much butter, and buying as much candy as would fit in our pockets to go see a silly kids’ movie. 

Things have changed, y’know? But they’ve also stayed the same. 

Yeah, you’re dead. I’m not going to college. Amy’s with Ephram instead of you. But some things are gonna stay the same. I’m gonna work at the pool again. Probably spend the summer shooting hoops in the driveway like we always did. 

It’s been a year since you died, and I don’t think about you as often as I used to. It’s what Ephram told me would happen, that it’d hurt like hell for a while but get better. 

It still hurts when I think about you, but it’s a dull hurt, not the kind that punches you in the chest and makes it hard to breathe, makes you sick to your stomach and makes you feel like you’re never gonna be happy again. 

I think I’m moving on. And it feels good, but if I’m really gonna move on, I’m gonna have to stop talking to you like you’re still here. I’m gonna have to say goodbye. 

So I just want you to know that I love you, dude. And I miss you, and I have so many things to say to you, but if I say anything else, I’m going to cry and I won’t be able to stop. 

So bye, man. Thanks for all the memories. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> All mistakes are my own, please let me know if you see any!
> 
> Kudos/Comments are greatly appreciated!


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